


Uchiha Family Values

by GetKeen



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/F, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Healing, Kyuubi is a Softie, M/M, Older Uzumaki Naruto, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Young Uzumaki Naruto, a lot of healing of broken people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2019-10-21 18:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17647715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetKeen/pseuds/GetKeen
Summary: Naruto Uzumaki didn't intend to mess up the past. It couldn't be helped that he'd fallen for Mikoto Uchiha and was now roped happily into raising her young family. Featuring Uchiha family bonding; an uncharacteristically adorable little Sasuke; a Mikoto with more personality than a doormat; a loopy grandpa Uchiha; and some plot. Maybe. Warning: Emotions (because family).Cross posted on ff.net





	1. Chapter 1

Uzumaki Naruto didn't mean to wreck the past.

Honest.

The fact that he hadn't intended to however, doesn't negate the fact that he had. Totally and utterly cocking up the sealing of the Kyuubi on that fateful October 10th was first on the list of his many transgressions.

As it turns out, grumpy old Kyuu-chan had been returned to the past with the Uzumaki brat at that moment and had politely requested, with an earth-shaking snarl and gnashing of teeth, that Minato Namikaze seal him into the unknown shinobi that looked too much like him to be coincidental instead of his newborn infant. The 27-year-old whiskered blonde had certainly not found it amusing when the sudden influx of already familiar chakra had been thrust into his belly, his body physically and spiritually weak from what had clearly been time-travel, which – I mean, just how – and had promptly fainted much to the surprise of a previously distraught fourth hokage, whom had been guiltily awaiting the demise of the unknown, and apparently non-hostile, ninja whom, he believed, he had just sentenced to death.

The sealing shouldn't have worked otherwise, the sudden transformation of chakra coils typically being too much for the fully developed ones of an adult. But, it wasn't like Naruto could explain to him that he had grown up with good, ol' Kyuu-chan in his gut and that he would have actually died not from the influx, but rather the sudden removal of the bijuu. Due to his being unconscious, and all.

And, y'know, time travel.

When Naruto woke up, in a tidy private recovery room in Konoha's hospital, the fourth hokage had practically thrown himself onto the man, sobbing with what seemed to be an odd mix of relief, joy and mild hysteria. For some reason, when the Shinigami had arrived to collect his dues, he had caught a glimpse of the unconscious Naruto, the new (old) seal on his stomach sizzling faintly. The death god had apparently chuckled – chuckled. The grim reaper – had given a toodle-doo kind of wave with his fingers to the astonished Minato, who was sure he had finally lost his mind, and then promptly vanished.

Naruto was sure that the powers that be merely wanted to make his life as complicated as possible.

But, back to the snotty blonde on his shoulder.

His starved-for-love father had immediately declared that the newcomer was no doubt a long-lost brother because, really who could argue that a strong family resemblance wasn't present and had immediately set about making Naruto a shinobi of Konoha.

The older blonde (and wasn't that weird, he was older than his dad) had merely heaved a world-weary sigh from his hospital bed, eyed suspiciously by an adorable de-aged version of his sensei, and accepted his fate.

It surprisingly wasn't that hard to do.

It was a good few months later that Naruto Namikaze met Mikoto Uchiha.

He had been enjoying a rousing conversation over a meal at the, then just freshly opened, Ichiraku Ramen, with his once parents (whom he now referred to as ototou and Kushina-chan) that he had heard rather than seen, because Uzumakis were loud, the arrival of a new party member.

"Is that Sasuke?!" the red-headed menace had squealed at the bundle in the newcomer's gentle hold. The Namikaze "brothers" (and only Naruto and Kurama knew about the quotation marks at this point in time; it would remain that way forever if they could help it) both flinched at their proximity to the banshee screech.

To her credit the woman, who was obviously an Uchiha if the name of her child was anything to go by, only giggled brightly and presented her son to her friend for inspection. Little Naruto was currently asleep in his carriage next to his uncle's seat, evidently able to sleep through anything. Kushina cooed and waggled her fingers at the child, who grinned and babbled happily at the attention, trying to grab hold of a strand of her vivid red hair.

While the two entertained each other, Minato dutifully introduced his older brother to the dark-haired woman, something akin to hero-worship in his eyes as he told her all about how he had shown up out of nowhere to save him, Kushina, their son and indeed the whole of Konoha from a dark demise. He was where little Naruto had ended up getting his namesake from after all, Jiraiya's book sparking the idea, and the fact that a hero of Konoha (never mind the fact that he had only officially been living there for a few months) shared the name, solidifying it. It was no doubt that the name Naruto would exchange its oddness for trendiness within a couple years, and that the Toad sannin would attempt to take credit for its popularity eventually.

Mikoto was watching the older man seriously as a large hand raised to rub the back of his neck, the other coming to Minato's skull as he conked him fondly on the head in an attempt to get him to stop extolling his virtues. So, he was rather humble then.

The man of the moment then turned to her with a disarming grin and gave an acknowledging nod of his own blonde-mop of a head. She blinked before returning the gesture, her smile only slightly strained as she internally reprimanded herself for finding someone other than her husband as attractive as she found her long-time friend's – only recently discovered, might she add – brother.

"It is a pleasure, Naruto-san."

It was then that Kushina thrust Sasuke into said man's arms, eliciting an undignified squawk that Mikoto had to suppress the urge to giggle at, as he fumbled with the precious package in his grasp. The Uchiha heiress (which was not common knowledge, as everyone merely assumed Fugaku to be the clan head by blood rather than marriage) watched him with the vigilance only a mother could possess as he handled her child. She was taken aback when she saw the seemingly ever-present mischievous glint in his eyes soften and a small, somehow more genuine smile curl his lips as he gazed at the tiny infant he held.

Sasuke gawked up at Naruto, his eyes too big for his face and his little nose scrunched up, as if he were considering something. Everyone whom had met the boy winced and mentally braced themselves for the squawling that would no doubt follow. The child was not known for taking to strangers very well, and even out of the people he knew, there were very few he actually seemed to like. Naruto tapped a chubby cheek with his finger and the little boy seemed to make up his mind as he squealed with delight and curled his own around the much larger appendage tightly.

The blonde man didn't notice the looks of shock on the faces of his company as he continued to play with the happy baby, but he froze when one small hand found its place on a tanned cheek, its owner clearly fascinated with the whisker marks that found their home there. He glanced up, only to find his companions with identical expressions and gaping jaws and snorted at the sight, he gave a show of nonchalance as he held out Sasuke for his mother to take back, which she did so, still gawping.

Yet, the magical moment was broken, as always, when he spoke, "He's not a very cute baby, you know."

Jaws snapped shut and Minato stifled a chuckle while Kushina laughed uproariously, catching the attention of the ramen stand's other customers who looked over at the group curiously. Mikoto's cheeks however, were rapidly attaining a very impressive hue of red as her dark eyes narrowed at her newest acquaintance.

"And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?" she ground out between gritted teeth, as it appeared that Naruto either gave the appearance of obliviousness or was genuinely stupid. And, for all his hero status, the raven-haired Uchiha was seriously starting to consider the latter an option, as he had insulted her beautiful baby boy.

"Exactly what I said, Mikoto-chan," her eye twitched at his manner of address, while an undignified snort managed to escape Minato's lips, "he's all weirdly pink and squishy, and not to mention heavy."

Another twitch, this time more violently. Had this insolent man just suggested that Sasuke was a fat baby?

"I'm not implying that your skills as a mother are inadequate, Mikoto-chan," he attempted to correct himself, "In fact I'm told that it's a good thing for children his age."

…Oh, she thought as her twitch calmed down slightly. Well, perhaps she had been too quick to –

"I'm just saying that he'll never be as handsome as little Naru-chan over here!" he boisterously proclaimed as he leaned over to where the aforementioned infant was rousing from sleep, as if on cue. The boy giggled tiredly, not entirely sure why or what was funny, he just knew that usually something was and strived to react appropriately.

Mikoto Uchiha was not amused however, and her tick was back with a vengeance. She unceremoniously shoved Sasuke into Minato's grasp, who yelped in surprise as he managed to correct his hold on the child, while the usually demure woman shoved her face so close to Naruto's that their noses were almost touching.

"Listen here, you insufferable man! I do not care if you are the hero of the Konoha, the hokage's brother, or if he idolises you so excessively that it makes you both look like idiots," Minato made a sound of protest at the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a whine, but was quickly shushed by his wife, who was staring at her typically tame friend with a glint of barely contained excitement in her eyes.

"You!" Mikoto was undeterred, "- do not have the right to insult my child, who is a beautiful baby boy, and the apple of my eye, and – and – who actually likes you for some unfathomable reason – and –"

She was interrupted by the look in the eyes of the man whom she was verbally assaulting and trailed off, having suddenly lost her bluster. There was endless humour in them and what was clearly a teasing, but not unkind, sparkle was glaringly present. He had merely been pulling her leg, then. Well didn't she feel like an idiot.

"I'm sorry to have offended you in anyway Uchiha-san," he didn't laugh at her which she was grateful for as it would have only made her feel worse, but the sudden change in the way he addressed her gave her a strange uncomfortable feeling in her stomach that she didn't like at all, "I actually believe that your Sasuke is an adorable child, and I just wanted to make you feel at ease, y'know? To help you come out of your shell. I apologise if that was in poor taste."

Mikoto blinked. She had a shell? Her confusion must have shown on her face as Naruto laughed this time, and still she didn't feel like it was being aimed at her. He graciously elaborated, "Kushina-chan had told me many stories of what you all got up to in your genin days and, forgive me if I'm being too personal, but the feisty, excitable woman that my dear little sister described had not seemed to be present at the beginning of our encounter."

He paused for a bit, as if to consider something, and then his grin was back tenfold, "She is now, though."

Mikoto blinked again, and then took stock of her position. She was still up in the tall man's face, an accusatory finger planted firmly on his chest (when had she put that there?) and so she quickly righted herself, smoothed down the skirt of her modest dress and attempted to regain some of her dignity, mildly red in the face and very flustered.

He was right, she marked with no small degree of surprise. And just when had she changed so drastically? Where she was once a proudly burning wildfire, she had somehow been turned into a small, tamed, flickering flame. It was most likely with her marriage to Fugaku, she concluded, with her responsibilities as a shinobi at an end, and those as a wife and mother about to begin…

She cut off her own train of thought. She was getting introspective, she noticed, and her three companions were waiting for her to say something in response to what Minato's brother – Naruto – had said to her. Still, this merited some thought later.

Clearing her throat and promising herself she would do some soul-searching that evening, she straightened her back and looked Naruto directly in those crystal clear, blue eyes of his.

"Forgive me, Naruto-san, I acted hastily and I can only asked for your f –"

"You know what, otouto?" the man cut in obnoxiously, his now sly gaze remaining on the woman he had so rudely interrupted even as he seemed to be addressing his brother, "I think that all Uchiha are stiff, old, fuddy-"

Mikoto took back control of the conversation, "Must you interrupt every attempt to be civil by giving me more reason to resent you, you idiot?!" She would not admit that she yelled, even shrieked this, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and begrudging amusement at the situation even as she was aware of that imbecile's plot.

He only gave her an infuriating smirk as he replied, "No. I will interrupt you, however, every time you try to act like a stuffy, old lady, Mikoto-chan."

She returned his efforts with a patented Uchiha glare, her dark eyes flashing hotly, but not resentful. She crossed her arms and thrust her nose into the air.

"Fine," she sniffed. And then deciding that she would not let him entirely get away with his win she added, "Dobe."

Naruto's response was entirely unexpected to that friendly ribbing. He froze and simply gazed at her, astonished for a reason that she could not fathom, and for a moment she was worried she had actually offended him.

Before she could attempt an apology however, the blonde burst into genuinely loud and not entirely obnoxious laughter. He was actually wiping away a tear of mirth from a blue eye when he finally beamed back at her unreservedly. So, he had liked that one, it seemed.

She would be sure to address him with that often, then.


	2. Itachi

The forced removal of Fugaku Uchiha from the household of the main family was not entirely surprising as it once might have been to the rest of the clan. Sure, they put on carefully crafted aghast expressions at his sudden, and not entirely amicable departure; but they knew that it had been a long time coming, and most of the clan members, with the exception of the council of elders whom had had the man under their proverbial thumb, were quietly glad to see him go.

The disapproving, entirely too traditional man had had a stick so far up his backside that it was popular opinion that it could not even have been surgically removed and, what was even worse was that his ass-hattery appeared to be contagious. He was a cold, distant father to his two sons, one who was a mere infant, and rumour had it that he had not once even held little Sasuke in his arms of his own choosing. He had also been in the process of turning his eldest into a weapon, a true shinobi, despite the fact that the boy was a pacifist and gentle in nature.

Yes, the child held immense talent for the profession, but it was so contrary to his character that everyone was certain that one day, they would all live to regret the crimes against his nature that the clan head was attempting to force.

Perhaps the most tragic atrocity that man had committed however, was his leashing of the once spunky, full of life heiress, whom he had wedded in fulfilment of a contract signed before they were even genin, in order to become the head of the patriarchal Uchiha clan. The clan princess had been turned into a mild, subservient, trophy wife and it was, quite frankly, disgusting to see both a woman of her personality and a shinobi of her calibre so tamed and other to what she had been for most of her life.

Her long-suffering father would not deny that he had cried tears of frustration and utter, soul-wrenching regret the night he had been invited for dinner and had seen such a far cry of the girl he had raised to be an independent and confident woman. That was why, when she suddenly and unceremoniously booted the prick responsible for her dramatic about-turn in character from her home, and it was essentially her home and not Fugaku's, Kazama Uchiha danced for joy around her living room like a madman in spite of his rapidly approaching old age; much to his daughter's amusement. He would take having to return to being acting clan head until his daughter married again, as long as his girl was happy.

When he had finally calmed down, both father and daughter chuckling with relief and happiness from the recent occurrence, the two had had a long heart-to-heart. Something they had not been able to enjoy due to that man's influence.

"One day I just, realised. I saw myself as if from an outsider's perspective, tou-chan," Mikoto looked at her hands in her lap as she kneeled with her father, deep in thought, "And I didn't recognise the woman I saw."

Kazama nodded sagely, a frown marring his face and deepening the wrinkles that had appeared on his brow within the last year or two. It was a hard realisation, but one that he was ultimately glad his daughter had made.

He cleared his throat and gained her attention, she looked up from where she had now been staring at the steam from the teapot on the low table between them to hear her father's valued thoughts.

"And what, my daughter, led you to reach this epiphany, if I may ask?" If Kazama was expecting any form of reaction from Mikoto, it was certainly not the one he got. To his utter bafflement her face reddened and she seemed to duck down, her dark hair forming a curtain as if to shield her pink cheeks from view. And then she squeaked, squeaked out a reply.

"Someone made me see it," short and sweet, but also providing the older man with absolutely no information at all. A slow smirk curled onto his face however, making him look an awful lot like the cat that was currently sunning itself of the windowsill behind him, purring contentedly.

"I see," he drawled and then sat back more comfortably, as if pondering her line. Then, after a unnecessarily drawn-out moment he chirped, "What is his name?"

"Tou-chaaaan," Mikoto groaned, sounding an awful lot like a hormonal teenager, and then brought a pillow up to her face to muffle her noises of embarrassment.

When Kazama Uchiha found out exactly who his daughter was crushing on (and wasn't that a funny thought), the old man would not cease hounding her about the subject. At first it was teasing comments about 'what the children would look like?', and 'oh my, isn't he just dashing' and, a personal favourite of the elder Uchiha's, 'Older men, Mikoto? What would your mother say?'

Those silly comments, Mikoto felt that she could actually deal with, as annoying and patronising as they were. What made her feel significantly more uneasy however, was when her nuisance of a father demanded to meet the man that so occupied her thoughts. And, of course, she could not allow that. Naruto did not feel the same way about her (she would not consider the alternative because it was only a little crush and, besides, she hadn't told him yet because she wasn't an idiot…but, the way he looked at Sasuke, that utter, and yet inexplicable, adoration in his eyes, and…no Mikoto, stop), and she did not want to embarrass herself, her father, and especially not the man in question by introducing him to the former. The way her luck went, they would get on swimmingly, and she could just see a future for herself filled with bad jokes and endless teasing from the duo.

When it had become clear that his daughter would under no circumstance introduce him to the man of her dreams, Kazama decided to take matters into his own hands and seek out the boy himself. So, one can imagine his surprise and utter delight when Naruto Namikaze had practically confessed to the father (of the soon to be bride in the old man's eyes), that he was unequivocally and irrevocably in love with his daughter, and did he know if there was any chance she felt the same way about him?

The old man had cackled, called him 'my boy', had basically meddled into business he had no right to be involved in and had yet made it turn out for the better.

For, if it wasn't for Kazama Uchiha, the elder, single, Namikaze brother may not have had the courage to ask the friend he had known for most of the length he had been in Konoha (which was approaching a year and a half now), out on what would be their first of many, official, dates.

One of the most memorable dates in both of the lovers' eyes, was the one immediately after Naruto had (finally, in the eyes of the Uchiha clan) proposed. It was on the last day of the Academy year and had started off as a simple home-cooked dinner in the clan head's household as a way for an overjoyed bride-to-be to unite her fiancé with her two sons. The only potential hitch was how the two (well, only Itachi really, seeing as Sasuke was still too young to properly understand much of anything) would react to possibly getting a new dad. Possibly, only, because Naruto was too good for this world and had said that he would only feel comfortable marrying Mikoto (regardless of his own desires) if the two boys were happy with it. This was a sentiment the Uchiha matriarch had almost swooned at, and it was one that Naruto refused to budge on. Except the problem was that it now left the dark-haired beauty with an uncharacteristically nervous almost-fiancé to deal with.

"Stop Naruto," Mikoto ordered with a stern look from the counter on which she was currently chopping vegetables. The Namikaze was nothing more than a human-shaped ball of nervous energy. From his position over the stove, where he was steaming rice, he had allowed one hand to rest on the adjacent counter-top and his fingers were tapping so incessantly, they were almost vibrating.

Mikoto sighed and placed her own slender hand over his agitated one, and it stilled slowly. He turned to her and gave her a sheepish grin, but his eyes still betrayed the anxiety he felt at the family meal he felt he was crashing.

"Relax" she breathed, her hand moving to rub reassuring circles into his orange-clad back, "He will grow to love you." Naruto sighed this time and abandoned his rice to curl his arms around the petite woman's frame, she nestled her face comfortably into the fabric over his heart and felt his lips move against the top of her head.

"You always know what's going on with me, hime," he murmured fondly, if still slightly dejected. He had met both Itachi and Sasuke a few times over now, and yet the elder of the brothers still treated him with a detachment mildly concerning for one so young. But Mikoto giggled at his newest nickname for her, and Naruto felt his worries begin to melt away.

"Sasuke already loves you more than anything in the world," Mikoto said with a playful huff. The toddler perked up at the sound of his name across the room and detached his few baby teeth from the large, red toy block he was gnawing on in favour of waddling over to the two adults. As if to prove his point, the little raven immediately clasped his little arms around Naruto's legs and babbled up at him adoringly. The fishcake in question immediately bent down and swept him into his strong arms where he rubbed noses with the child, his mother swiftly forgotten.

Mikoto rolled her eyes and stated sarcastically, "And here I thought he was going to be a mama's boy."

Naruto snorted, which made Sasuke giggle in response to the strange sound and clasp the man's cheeks, still fascinated with his whisker marks after all this time. Naruto whined when the toddler began to tug at his cheeks, pulling his face out of shape and laughing loudly now at the ridiculous sight he made.

"Himeeee," he whined, the word barely decipherable thanks to her son's efforts, "Sasuke's making fun of me." That was what Naruto had tried to say, but the attempt was utterly useless, and Mikoto told him as much.

"Come now dear, we need to finish dinner before Itachi gets back from the academy, which should be quite soon now," she swept the rice off the stove, while Naruto reluctantly put the baby Sasuke down, who immediately crawled back over to his blocks. As the two adults set the table and prepared the dining area, the toddler discarded his red block in favour for one bright yellow in colour. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite place what that was exactly. A thought occurred to him and his attention suddenly found the big man who was moving around by his mommy. Noticing the shock of yellow on top of his head, the littlest Uchiha looked down to the block clasped in both of his small hands contemplatively. He looked up again, to see the brightly coloured hair once more, and then he returned his gaze to the block. He did it again. And finally, he was satisfied. The block that he intended now to savagely gum, more baby teeth on their way, was the exact shade of yellow that the man's hair was. The colour was warm, and it made him feel safe.

He liked this yellow.

When Itachi arrived home from the academy, it was to a heavenly aroma that danced its way from the dining and kitchen area of his home to the entrance hall where he was currently taking off his shoes. His mouth started watering involuntarily, because when had his mother started using spices so exotic smelling? He shrugged off his coat and placed it neatly folded on a stool next to his shoes, where he would easily be able to find it the next day.

He heard the sounds of fun, one a subdued, but somehow feminine snort, and Itachi allowed himself an uncharacteristically wide smile because his it was his mother who was laughing so goofily; but his face fell when he heard the uninhibited male laughter that boomed through the halls of the once empty feeling house, colouring the bland walls and heating up the cold wind that whispered near the floor.

He anxiously got out his report card and twisted it between nervous hands. Itachi knew he was an intelligent child, he'd heard the grown-ups and his teachers call him a genius, some to his face but most of them when they thought he wasn't listening. He didn't always feel like a genius, though. A genius was supposed to have an answer to everything, and most of the time he did – but now, when it really mattered, he just didn't. And it made his bottom lip tremble because, even though he was supposed to be a genius, he was only seven years old, and he did not know how to make this sunshine man who was probably going to be his new daddy like him.

He knew he loved his mommy and that his mommy loved the man, and he loved the man for it. Because his mommy was different. She was loud, she was laughy, she was happy. And, although Itachi was supposed to be a genius, his mommy wasn't happy because of any answer he could have come up with. It was because of the man whose laughter he could hear now. The laughter he wanted to be directed at him with one of those big smiles he often saw the sunshine man gave his mommy that meant he was proud of her and he loved her.

His first father had been tough on him, and it was hard to make him smile. In fact, Itachi could not remember if he had ever managed to do that. The closest he had come was when he had a good report card, and his first father had put his hand on his head and told him to keep getting better. Itachi had felt like he was really a genius. He had made the man proud.

And so, even though he didn't like fighting, he had trained to be an awesome ninja. Although, his first father hadn't liked him using words like 'awesome' and 'cool'…and 'daddy'…so he had stopped that too. But he wasn't here anymore, and he had never made his mommy look as happy as this new one could, so he didn't matter. All that Itachi could hope for was that he had trained him enough to make a good impression on the sunshine man so that he would like him, and mommy, and Sasuke; so that he would stay with them forever, and keep the cold shadows away with his loud, funny laugh.

Naruto and Mikoto had been joking away and playing with Sasuke, who was sat in the former's lap when a soft, almost hesitant, "I'm home" sounded out from the darkened doorway to the dining area. The blonde tensed, only for a sharp crack on the head from his loving princess to bring him out of what self-imposed anxious torture he would no doubt had entered otherwise. Sasuke giggled and looked up at him with his small back pressed protectively to a broad chest, the sight of Naruto's upside-down face making him stick a few fingers into his mouth and gurgle cutely.

"Welcome home, Itachi-kun!" Mikoto immediately got up from where she was seated and swept her son up from where he was hovering at the entrance to the room, only to plop him down at his place at the low table. She noticed that he too, had tensed up and the colour started to drain away from his face as he watched Naruto like prey cornered by a particularly vindictive predator.

Said predator was determinedly avoiding eye-contact as he busied himself with moving a fussing baby from his lap and into a high-chair.

Mikoto clucked her tongue softly, this was going to be a journey. But, she was determined that they would all make it through better for it. All families that had to be integrated as such went through rough patches and came out stronger. At least, that was what her research on the subject had assured her of. Let no one accuse her of not doing the utmost for her precious people. All of them.

With a look from the matriarch, Naruto cleared his throat and began awkwardly, "So Itachi-san," he left off the diminutive honorific so as to not appear too forward. He didn't want to disrespect Itachi's role in his family after all, "H-How was the last day of the academy?"

Itachi did not look up from where he was still worrying something in his lap when he answered flatly, "It went well, Naruto-san. I have, as expected, graduated at the top of my class."

Naruto bestowed a worried glance upon Mikoto, who was dishing up the steaming food, and listening intently to their conversation. She made no move to join in though and he resisted the urge to sigh. So, this was his and Itachi's issue to sort out.

He continued, more confidently, "That is good to hear. I'm sure your mother is very pleased with you." Mikoto hummed her consent and flashed Itachi a reassuring smile, pausing to place a hand on his shoulder briefly before she served her child.

Itachi looked momentarily grateful for the contact before he looked Naruto dead in the eye with a deadpan expression, "It would appear so, Naruto-san."

"Ah," was all he could say in return, and the dinner table lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only with Sasuke's sounds of curiosity as he dissected his meal.

Then, seemingly after a brief moment of hesitation, Itachi nodded his head decisively and swiftly stood up from his place. He started walking around the table, and for a brief, awful, moment Naruto was certain that the boy was leaving the room altogether, giving up on the potential family they all could have made. As it turns out, however, he was only walking to where Naruto was seated, before plopping down to his knees once more and drooping his head in what was so clearly a deferential manner, that it was all the blonde could do not to recoil in horror. He shared a grim look this time with Mikoto, whose mouth was set in a tight line as she redirected her gaze to her boy, worry dimming her already dark eyes. She did not seem surprised, however. Itachi only served to further shock the alternatively thoroughly shaken Naruto when two trembling hands held out an unsealed envelope.

Not knowing what else to do, he took it and retrieved the document inside.

Itachi waited with bated breath as the sunshine man read his report card. The trembles in his hands started to spread throughout his whole body as the silence stretched onwards and he started quivering like a leaf on the wind when the man pursed his lips and turned to look at his mother again. He was displeased.

Unable to take it anymore, the poor boy inhaled a shaky breath and then the words seemed to vomit from his mouth, "N-Naruto-san, I apologise profusely if you are d-displeased with my results. I only wish to offer my continued hardest work, a-and my loyalty, in return for you to stay and look after my m-mother and otouto."

They came out so fast that he could no longer stop them, and so they just kept coming. He refused to look into those sharp blue eyes while he shamefully continued to explain his reasoning, in hopes that he would be seen as redeemable in spite of his unsatisfactory results.

"I – I just," he was at a loss for all those fancy words his first father had taught him, and so he decided to bite the bullet and continue with the ones the man hadn't liked. Getting his message across for now was the most important objective. The little boy was sniffling now, with mounting emotion.

"I just don't want you to leave mommy, because she's happy and Sasuke is happy and I love them both, and I love you for loving them. And I'm sorry I can't be a genius all the time and that you don't like my results, and that you don't like me. I –," the tears actually pushed past the dam he had created for them now, but he still couldn't stop. Not until the man understood why his mommy, why Sasuke, why Itachi needed him to stay forever. "I want you to like us," this last statement was a whisper.

And that whisper echoed just as much as it would have as if it were a shout in that silent, silent room. Even Sasuke had quieted, greatly disturbed as his usually stoic brother was reduced to a snivelling boy, prostrate before the man that would likely be his new father because that was all he knew how to do.

The agonising silence stretched on for what could have been seconds, hours or even days, until Itachi finally mustered up his bravery enough to look into eyes that would resent him probably for the rest of his life, for not being a good enough genius, and for not using those fancy words, and for -.

Itachi's thoughts screeched to a halt as he saw those blue, blue eyes not icy with disapproval, nor hardened with anger. There was a profound, ice-shattering despair in them and, for a moment Itachi was taken aback. This, this was even worse than the anger he had feared. To make the sunshine man this sad, that just felt so wrong. He whimpered and curled in on himself again. He was an awful, horrible boy.

But then, then, a warm hand, heavy with emotion landed on his still bowed back and Itachi stiffened. He was not used to physical contact from anyone other than his mother and brother, and he was not sure what purpose or meaning the one right at this moment held. When it appeared that it would not be a reprimanding one, he allowed his muscles to relax and he looked up into that face again. Kind and open, the tears were streaming down the man's scarred cheeks now and, without asking permission from anyone, he gently moved his hands underneath Itachi's armpits and wordlessly lifted him into his lap.

The boy in question, the tear streaks on his own face dried, and too frozen in shock at the action to produce any more, looked into the man's face with astonishment. The blonde was still sniffling slightly, but he raised a shaky hand to the fluffy, raven hair and stroked it gently, not sure whom exactly he was attempting to calm down in the process.

Then he crushed the boy to his chest without warning, his voice thick and hoarse with emotion as he spoke.

"Oh, Itachi. I love you all so much, I promise to you that I will not go anywhere. I am so unbelievably proud you and how brave you were to say all of that in one go," Itachi felt something inside him crack almost audibly at the words, and he wasn't at all certain that that was a bad thing. The floodgates opened once again and he threw himself into the embrace with all he had, little arms encircling a strong neck, and creating salty stains down the front of a nice, new, orange shirt. Neither party minded, as one was bawling his eyes out, releasing all the emotions that had built up over the years that he was constantly told he should not have in the first place; while the other merely held him. Held him as he broke and gave him the assurance that he would be there to help him put the pieces together again, afterwards. Murmuring "I love you, my son" over and over again into a small ear that was so desperately starved of that phrase.

And all the while, a mother could only look on, teary at the horrifyingly beautiful scene, eyes red with emotion and unconsciously committing every detail to memory.


	3. First Word

Sasuke's first word wasn't "aniki", "papa" or even the typical "mama". But then, Sasuke Uchiha wasn't exactly your typical toddler. He was the son of two more-than-capable shinobi who, as it came with the job description, possessed enough unusual quirks between the two of them to fill an arsenal. It made sense, though. People who have experienced enough fighting to last them a few lifetimes have license to be a bit odd and, as long as they find some way to cope, they are allowed their particular brand of strangeness.

Much like his daughter, Kazama Uchiha found his therapeutic outlet in the merciless teasing of his blonde son-in-law. The boy had proven himself time and again that he was not just a capable, but an effective (and good) leader on the missions his equally blonde brother had assigned him to over the last two years following his abrupt, bizarre arrival.

And so, the old man had taken to grooming Naruto Namikaze-Uchiha (the council of elders had thrown a collective fit when they had heard that the new husband of the heiress had intended to keep his last name following the wedding ceremony) into a perfect future clan head – as far as Kazama was concerned, at any rate. Not that the boy had knowledge of this, of course.

"Are you off your rocker, old man?!" Naruto punctuated his exclamation with wild gesticulations that made it seem as if he was trying to take off. Well, he hadn't known until now, at least.

Kazama awarded his efforts with a scowl, "Is that anyway to respect your father-in-law, brat?" he grumbled with equal vigour and proceeded to bonk the younger man on his head with a heavy wooden staff. He didn't actually require a walking aid just yet, but it was great fun pretending to be a senile old coot and this particular walking stick was extremely useful for disciplining wayward sons-in-law. Case in point.

He continued sternly, "Even you aren't a big enough idiot to not have seen this coming! You married the Uchiha heiress, for goodness' sake!"

Naruto, who was rubbing his sore head, glared at the older Uchiha, "I know I did! But – but, you're the clan head!" Kazama gave an exaggerated sigh at this statement (Naruto was grasping at straws here, and he knew it), but continued nevertheless, "Interim clan-head, you clown! Or do you not know what word that means?"

The blonde man awarded his father-in-law with an Uchiha-worthy scowl and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Kazama resisted the urge to chuckle at the antics. His daughter had chosen well, indeed.

"Look Naruto," the man in question looked up gloomily at the use of his actual name, instead of that of a creative insult, "I have no doubt that you will make a fine clan head, and it isn't like you'll be running blind here! What do you take me for?" He grinned widely (and yikes, this goof was really rubbing off on him) to be rewarded with a resigned sigh and a weary smile back.

"Alright, gramps," and here Naruto was cut off with another thump on the head for insubordination, "Not like I had much choice anyway," he mumbled half-heartedly, much to the continued amusement of the soon to be ex-Uchiha-clan-head (for the second time).

The old man reached over the table the two were seated at and clasped Naruto's hand determinedly, "That's my boy," he beamed proudly and Naruto could not resist smiling more genuinely back. He was a few days away from becoming Hokage before his accidental time-travel stint. How hard could it be?

As it turns out, it was hard. It was very hard.

Naruto groaned as he collapsed onto the couch in the living room of the clan-head's – his – home. Mikoto swiftly bustled in from the kitchen and set down one of the mugs she had been carrying on the table in front of her husband, while she took the other one. Nudging Naruto's socked feet out of the way, she sat down at the other end of the sofa he was sprawled on, before he immediately replaced them onto her lap. The dark-haired woman giggled, before resting her free hand on a tense calf.

"I'm a performer, hime," he said face down into a cushion, "It's like I'm juggling everyone and everything. Trying to keep the clan happy, trying to keep the council happy, trying to keep my brother happy," he trailed off, throwing his hands awkwardly into the air, before letting them collapse back to his sides again. It had been a few weeks since his official induction and it hadn't taken him long to realise a new respect for Minato, what with all the trash he no doubt had to wade through every day if his own experience was anything to go by.

Mikoto smiled understandingly, "Well, that last one isn't really a problem, Naruto. All you have to do is exist for that clown to be happy," her husband gave a muffled, but amused snort at this. She wasn't wrong. "And," she continued, "if you manage to achieve anything beyond that, he proceeds to worship the ground you walk on."

Both of them laughed at that, and Naruto finally sat up properly and retrieved his hot tea. "But in all seriousness, you are doing a wonderful job, husband of mine," the Uchiha woman said truthfully, a playful twinkle in her dark eyes, "The clan is inordinately pleased with the work you have done in such a short time.; and the elders are grumbling about you less and less each day," she shuffled closer to him on the couch even as he chuckled gratefully and did the same.

He curled an arm around her, "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" Mikoto grunted derisively and got up so that she could look him straight in the eye.

"And why, pray tell, would I ever do that, dobe?" she snarked with a raised eyebrow, that odd pet name that he had taken to so long ago as meaningful as ever even now, "I would never give credit where it was not due." Naruto rolled his eyes good naturedly as he looked down at his wife, waiting for her to finish her thought. She did not disappoint.

"And you, my dear husband, deserve more of that than you give yourself." Mikoto felt said husband's muscles relax seemingly all at once, the approval he had apparently been seeking (whether subconscious or not, she couldn't tell) received and he all but melted into the couch they were both sitting on.

Although the look he had in his eye when he gazed at her again was anything but relaxed. It held the almost inhuman determination that the Uchiha heiress had come to expect from her husband as he said, "Well, then. I suppose that'll have to change."

She smiled back proudly and was about to draw Naruto into her arms, when the couple was interrupted by a miniature whirlwind in the form of their eldest son blowing into the room.

"Kaa-san! Kaa-san!" The boy's already long hair was messy and his pupils were blown wide in excitement. He looked slightly unhinged. That was, until he noticed Naruto openly gaping at him.

He immediately smoothed his mane, and his wide-eyes gaze found his fingers, that seemed to have started timidly pressing themselves together entirely without his permission.

"Oh w-welcome home, tou-san," he smiled shyly and looked up from underneath his eyelashes. The tall man was beaming at him unreservedly at the use of that title and he spread his hands, gesturing with them for Itachi to get closer.

The little boy did so, all semblance of nervousness gone as he flung himself into his daddy's waiting arms and nuzzled into the warm embrace. Naruto chuckled and Mikoto's eyes shone as her mouth curled into a bittersweet smile. The happy child in front of her, laughing freely as Naruto blew rude noises into the crook of his neck was a world apart from the stiff, stoic boy that she had feared she had been rapidly losing, in every sense of the word.

The mother tried to calm down her two giggling boys.

"Itachi! Oh, stop that dobe, and let our son speak!" Naruto only laughed harder, but he obliged and set the child on the floor again, ruffling his hair fondly as he did so and messing it up again. This time Itachi didn't fix it and gave a wide grin (that he had definitely picked up from his new father) that showed off a missing front tooth. He had lost it only that week and had seemed immensely proud of the fact that he was going to be a 'grown up' soon, if his puffed-out chest had been anything to go by.

Itachi's eyes immediately lit up at his mother's words as the reason he had been so excited caught up with him once more, "Kaa-san! Tou-san! It's Sasuke!" the two immediately straightened in their seats at the mention of the infant, whom Itachi had been carefully watching over in his crib in the couples' bedroom. Itachi took a deep breath and then continued, "He said his first word!"

The young parents blinked. First at their son, and then at each other, before simultaneously beginning to gush at the news as they drew their eldest into a group hug.

"What was it? What was it?" Naruto was now on his feet and bouncing around the sofa, unable to contain his joy, "I bet it was 'papa'! Well, Itachi? Was it? Was it 'papa'?"

The boy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the question and he looked to his mother unsurely, "Well, tou-san. It – um – it wasn't 'mama', but…"

"I knew it!" the blonde streaked from the room in an orange blur and went careening up the stairs to hear the word out of the mouth of the babe himself. Mother and son were left, slightly whiplashed as they giggled at the man's antics. Itachi, whose face was rapidly approaching the hue of a tomato, tugged his mother's hand and she rose to her feet. The two walked at a more sedate pace, but when they reached the foot of the stairs they stopped at the boy's slight hesitation.

"Was is it, my son?" Mikoto enquired, mildly worried now.

If it were possible, Itachi only flushed deeper and he ducked his head as he mumbled out his answer, "I really think you should call Tou-san 'papa' around Sasuke more, Kaa-san."

Mikoto was successfully bewildered as they walked up the stairs now, thinking back to all the times Naruto had referred to her as 'mama' when he talked to the boy, who up until now had only replied in adorable baby-babble. It was true that she hadn't done the same very many times, but the woman couldn't see what the problem was there. She certainly hadn't done the same for Itachi, and nothing had been out of the ordinary with his developmental milestones.

The answer became apparent when they reached the flung-open door to the room, seeing an overjoyed Sasuke in Naruto's arms and happily playing with his brightly-coloured hair. Naruto himself, on the other hand, was smiling wryly and if Mikoto hadn't known better, she could have sworn that a blonde eyebrow was twitching.

It was then that the toddler spotted his mother and brother in the doorway, and his face lit up as he pointed at his father and proclaimed, "Dobe!"

Mikoto promptly lost it.


	4. Look the Part

Sasuke's third birthday had ended with an unpleasant surprise, the smoke of a shunshin carrying him far away from where he had been sleeping in the bedroom shared with his big brother; and depositing him into the arms of an enemy shinobi.

The man, who was leaping through tree branches with an illusion that had been hastily cast on the small child to keep him asleep and quiet, was silent himself even as the thoughts tumbled through his mind and made his breaths grow short with exhilaration.

This was good enough, he supposed. The son had been extensively guarded and so he had had to settle with that man's nephew. The fact that he hadn't been aware of the second choice's existence (until he had witnessed the boy tugging on the hand of a man who could have been the Yellow Flash's twin) was irrelevant. The message would get across regardless, although he wished – oh how he wished – he could have been there to see that smug smile on that tanned face drop, the grief seep into those merciless blue eyes, how –

What was that?

His head snapped around, hitai-ate gleaming in the moonlight, his concentration dropping and the genjutsu on the child beginning to slip. It had never been his strong point anyways.

He listened for a short while before he deemed it safe to continue. He was almost at the border now, where his comrades would be waiting to spirit the child away to their own village, and he couldn't afford to be a sitting duck. The nin didn't know what his kage had planned, and he really didn't care. This boy was an enemy and would be treated as such. Said boy was beginning to stir more, jostled about by the movement, and a dark eye still heavy with sleep cracked open.

The man cursed again, louder this time, but he was over the boundary now and amongst his comrades. They greeted him with silent, solemn nods, which he returned. But the boy was squirming, whimpers escaping his small jaw, teeth gritted in fright.

The man glared down at him with more hate than the little boy, surrounded by friends and loving family, had ever experienced in his life and Sasuke froze. Then he wailed, because he did not know this man. He was not an uncle, he was not grandpa, and he was certainly not daddy.

As if the child's howl of terror was a battle cry, all hell broke loose as that awful, sickening flash of yellow appeared in the intruding ninja's midst. The man who had emerged from it picked up the three-pronged kunai that none of them had noticed, tucked away just where the base of the wall met the long grass, and he settled into an offensive stance.

They refused to let it be a slaughter this time. They were the survivors, the ones that had been left behind. And they had trained, and trained, and trained themselves into the ground in order to be able to even defend against the man who had massacred their loved ones with that accursed jutsu of his.

The male ninja that had started it all let the child drop to the ground, where he landed on his wrist painfully. Sasuke whimpered as he stared at his uncle wide-eyed, terribly confused and hurting. At the look in his nephew's eyes, something in Minato seemed to snap, a snarl ripping from behind clenched teeth and guilt twisting his gut into shapes that were yet to be mapped because these were his enemies (it was his fault) and he leapt into the fray, prioritising the arm that scooped Sasuke as safely out of the way of the battle as he could get him.

It was not what the Yellow Flash had been expecting, the fight was neither quick nor easy. For one, he was clearly outnumbered. His opponents were swift on their feet and had an instinct for detecting where danger was coming from that could only be attained from years of experience with field combat. He was starting to break a nervous sweat (because Sasuke was still there) and considered calling for backup when he froze, face as white as the bone that was currently sticking out of one of his challengers' shoulders – he wasn't completely ineffective – and it should have been a fatal mistake if it weren't for the fact that the rest of the occupants of the space had done the same.

An ugly, malevolent chakra had begun to leak through the village walls.

The reactions of the other combatants were much more severe than that of the fourth hokage, however, as for them it was the first time feeling such extreme terror, death playfully tracing patterns up and down their shivering spines. Most of them fell to their knees, the whites of their eyes showing and lending them a crazed, hysterical appearance.

The only person who did not collapse, cry or even pale was the only one who – perhaps – should have. For he was no fighter, no killer, no shinobi. Little Sasuke, who had curled himself into the foetal position and had been sucking at a quivering fist in a fruitless attempt at self-comfort, had gotten up slowly, a painful hope lifting his face and displaying cold, tear-streaked cheeks to the world of nightmares he had woken up in.

He sobbed in what bafflingly seemed to be relief, and then got to his shaky feet even as the shinobi whom had almost successfully attempted his kidnapping sunk to the ground. He looked to Minato, the hope in his dark eyes strengthening, and making them glitter like rare jewels, contrasting poignantly with the unshed tears they still held. His uncle looked back. And he suddenly understood.

The first words out of his nephew's mouth only confirmed it for the fourth hokage. To Sasuke, it was a phrase he uttered on a daily basis, after nursery school, when those annoying, squealy girls bothered him about going to their houses for supper. He said it every time, and it worked like a charm in getting them to go away, because it was the truth. His mommy told him to always tell the truth. And even now little Sasuke was sure that he would do her proud, because he knew.

"My daddy's coming to fetch me," he breathed.

"I still don't see why this is necessary."

Naruto was giving the floor of Konoha's newly refurbished scientific research labs a particularly vile glare, a look that was typically reserved for one who regularly leaves paper bags of dog droppings on front door steps, and not for inanimate objects. He was walking with Minato, in compliance with the man's plan to prevent further occurrences such as the previous night's happening in the future.

The hokage felt personally responsible for dragging his brother's young family into his personal issues, as the team of shinobi (who had turned out to be Iwa-born) had revealed through rigorous questioning from the Torture and Interrogation squad that they had been unaware of Naruto's existence in the first place. It had been an (un)happy coincidence for the man who had snatched Sasuke to have witnessed the father-son duo on a grocery run for Mikoto. The sheer, uncanny resemblance the two brothers had was enough for the spy to change his plans mid-stride, something usually not done lightly in the ninja-world, regardless of where the ninja hailed from.

Needless to say, Naruto was ready to call bullshit on the all-too-convenient story, but he was no match against Minato's unbelievable ability to take responsibility for every negative happening in the village. In hindsight, it was an admirable, if not essential quality for a kage to have, but he couldn't control genetics for crying out loud! Nevertheless, an attempt to ease Minato's misplaced guilt had led the two brothers to the underground passages they were currently navigating.

"Necessary?" Minato broke his fellow blonde out of his musings, "Of course you know why that's the case, Nii-san."

Naruto rolled his blue eyes, catching his reflection out of the corner of his eye and taking a moment to look at it forlornly. If the hokage had his way (which he would), he wouldn't be able to appreciate it as it was for much longer at all.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed aloud, "I just wish there was a way that didn't involve this science stuff."

Minato let out a good-natured chuckle, "None of this 'stuff' would be remotely possible without the same science you seem to have no regard for. There is no jutsu on the face of the earth that could mask your features so thoroughly as this type of knowledge can."

"Yet," Naruto interrupted with a glower.

"Yet," Minato amended, "I just – it's because we look so alike that they targeted your family, Naruto. So, it makes sense that the fastest, and least complicated route to take to ensure the protection of you and your loved ones would be to change those looks, right? And no, something as easily seen through as a henge would not have the same effect."

The taller blonde grumbled under his breath at having his next thought shut down so effectively. The hokage was right, but he didn't have to be happy about it.

Minato sighed and put a firm hand on his brother's shoulder, squeezing gently, "I know this is, for lack of a better expression, really weird. But we're going to have to roll with it, okay? There could be worse things than temporarily getting a new face."

The older man finally sighed and gave his counterpart a small, but genuine smile. All this was to protect his family after all, as Minato had said several times already, and he would do anything to ensure their safety. This included, of course, Minato himself and his own young family who were just as at risk, if not more so, than the Namikaze-Uchiha.

This tender moment of mutual understanding between the siblings was interrupted by the door they were delaying knocking on as it opened smoothly, and a voice that sent chills running up and down Naruto's spine sounded out, clear as a bell in spite of its raspy quality, welcoming the 'royal family' to his humble workplace.

He felt Kurama start at the sound and his power began to crackle through him angrily; so that when the jinchuuriki faced the voice's owner, it was with eyes that had begun to bleed crimson.

If Orochimaru was disturbed by the hokage's brother's seemingly foul mood, he did not show it. Instead, he let his cool gaze sweep over them before he inclined his head in a small show of deference to the younger of the two. A (super-creep, according to Naruto) smile spread across his face as he welcomed them into his laboratory, Minato having to forcibly drag his brother over the threshold.

It took a great deal of 'encouragement' for Naruto to go through with the procedure under Orochimaru's hand as, for a reason that Minato could not fathom, he seemed to harbour an intense dislike of the snake-like scientist. This was his very first encounter with him, for kami's sake! Thank goodness this did not seem to offend the researcher himself, as the project they had sought out his expertise for went off without a hitch and it was a significantly darker-haired Naruto that went home a good few hours later.

As Minato was saying his goodbyes to the middle-aged man (as well as apologising profusely for his brother's behaviour) the Snake-sannin had stopped him in his exit with an uncharacteristically earnest look in his sharp eyes.

"Minato-kun," he started (once the two of them had gotten to know each other better through their work together, the older man had dropped the "hokage-sama" rather quickly), "Have any plans regarding my request to you been put into motion?"

It did not take long for the blonde to recall this request, as it was a rather large one and one that could potentially shake up Konoha at its roots. Nevertheless, he was nothing if not a good hokage, and so he replied with a, "They have, Orochimaru-san. I will not fail you on this."

A pair of golden eyes closed in relief as he let out a sigh and released the deceptively steely grip he had had on the hokage's wrist. As the door closed behind him and rubbing his sore forearm discreetly, Minato could have sworn he heard a soft 'thank you' on the air. Although, that could have just been the draft. Orochimaru had a reputation to uphold, after all.

"This is hardly funny, Mikoto."

The Uchiha in question was trying (and failing) to hold back snorts of unladylike laughter as she gazed at her husband's temporary face. Orochimaru was a genius indeed. Under Minato's orders, the sannin had transformed the recognisable jinchuuriki's features into something no Konoha citizen would think to look twice at. Most of the (former) blonde's life was mostly kept under wraps already, as Minato would not be so naïve as to think that the villagers would just forget about the Kyuubi attack (and the title of 'hero' could only do so much). In order to prevent any attacks on the more vulnerable members of Naruto's young family, Konoha's population (with the exception of a select few) was unaware that he was even married. The blonde was more of a symbol to them, a glimpse of him in the streets here and there was usually sufficient to know that he was still there to protect the village at large. For this reason, it was surprisingly easy to upturn his entire existence; once again, for the sake of his family. All it really took was a simple public announcement that 'the Orange Fox of Konoha' was going on an extended mission from Minato to satisfy the citizens of the Leaf village. The ninja clan heads would no doubt be requiring more than that, but Mikoto figured Naruto would probably just tell them the truth instead. He wasn't entirely fond of keeping secrets from those he wanted to foster a bond of trust with in the first place.

The Uchiha council, obviously, knew the truth already.

But let it not be said that Mikoto could no longer find the humour in anything. She found she could do enough of that since marrying Naruto. And this was certainly one for the memory bank.

Her dear husband was sporting a scowl worthy of any Uchiha, and the fact that he now looked like one was too much to bear. Once unruly, blonde hair now cascaded down Naruto's back in elegant, ebony strands (much like how she could envision Itachi's growing to be in the future. His latest goal was to grow his hair out, you see. He'd seen a kunoichi using hers as an efficient weapon while out on an academy field trip one day and hadn't given his poor mother a break about it since). His square chin had been narrowed to a point, much like she could see Sasuke's developing into once he lost his baby fat, and his already high cheekbones were made more prominent by the loss of his own chubbiness in his cheeks. She inwardly mourned the loss of his naturally tanned skin that had instead been exchanged for an alabaster pale; but she marvelled at the inky depths that were now his eyes. Somehow, they still had the same quality as his blue irises; it was like she was now looking into the sea on a stormy day, instead of on a clear one.

Mikoto breathed a sigh of relief when she searched Naruto's new face for any sign of a family resemblance with her and couldn't find one. That was many potentially awkward situations avoided. His build was still the same, tall and broad and safe.

"Mikoto?"

She blinked and returned her eyes to Naruto's onyx ones (and wasn't that going to take some getting used to).

"Sorry sweetheart," she laid a hand on his cheek, an action that surprised him for some reason, "This is going to take some getting used to."

His eyes lowered, long, thick eyelashes a stark contrast with his pale cheek.

She continued strongly, "But we will all get used to it. You're the same person on the inside, obviously. You know that."

A strong hand raised to her own and covered it, holding her palm captive against his face.

"Thank you," his voice was hoarse with emotion, "I know that. And I also know that I would do anything. Anything. For you and the kids."

"I know, Naruto. I know," Mikoto's warm smile morphed into something with a little quirk to it as the corner of her mouth lifted further. Naruto knew that look and he could feel the tips of his ears heat up rapidly at the implications of her smirk.

"Ah, I see you're thinking what I'm thinking," the Uchiha matriarch started to lead the Uchiha clan head – who now looked the part entirely – up the stairs to the bedrooms.

"Kushina took the boys for the evening, she had a feeling we might be needing some time to get used to your new appearance, you know, as husband and wife." When had Naruto's mouth gotten so dry?

She stopped them outside the master bedroom and put a finger to her partner's soft lips.

With half-lidded eyes, "What do you say we go and get reacquainted, hm?"


	5. Adjustment Period

Unlike his arrival to the past, Naruto found it a challenge to adapt to his new appearance. Every time he looked in the mirror since his surprisingly uneventful encounter with a certain scientist, he saw Sasuke; and not his three-year-old son, who was too cute for his own good, but rather the rival and friend that he had left behind. Now, the former blonde had long since come to terms with the fact that he probably could never get back to his present (hell, he didn’t even know just how he’d gotten to the past in the first place).   
But, more than that, he…didn’t particularly want to anymore. When Mikoto had come into his life, she had thoroughly and irrevocably changed him (for the better, she would say to a passing acquaintance and he would be inclined to agree). Having people depend on him had forced him to mature in a way he never could have in his own time. He was a father now. And that made all the difference.  
Still though, seeing ghosts of the past (or was it the future?) in his own reflection brought back the old aches of wounds that had already been healed several times over by the love of his family.   
He pulled his long hair into a high ponytail and glared at his reflection. Shoving a finger against the glass aggressively, the clan head asserted his dominance over the ghost of Sasuke that he could still see there, “You are Naruto Namikaze-Uchiha. And you will not forget that.”

Surprisingly, he found that he felt a little better and, after a moment of deliberation, allowed his reflection a small smile. He could do this. It would just take a little bit of time for him to get used to his bizarre situation, is all.   
A loud, persistent knock from the doorway drew Naruto’s attention away from the reflective glass and he beamed when he saw that it was Itachi who was so demanding his attention.   
The eight-year-old grinned back at him widely, and sauntered into the room, “Morning tou-san! Mom’s almost done with Sasuke. You’re ready, right?”  
He reached out for his son and placed both hands on his shoulders firmly, steering him so that he was standing in front of him. When they were both staring into the mirror like this, one could see just how strong the resemblance now was between the two of them. Especially with this new waterfall of hair that, even when tied up, fell to his lower back (Mikoto was quite petulant about the fact that it was significantly longer than hers).   
Itachi seemed to notice this too, although he wrinkled his nose a little, “We still have some time before we have to leave for the Hyuuga’s right, dad?”  
Naruto blinked as he met his son’s gaze in the glass, “That we do, kiddo. Why?”

Itachi shrugged the strong hands off of him and went for the short stool that sat in the corner of his parents’ bedroom. He plonked it down at his father’s feet and released his hair from the low ponytail he had worn it in ever since he started purposefully growing it. It was an impressive length now too, reaching just past his shoulder blades.  
“Um,” with a shyness that was unusual for the Uchiha boy, he made his request, “Would you please do my hair for me, tou-san? Make it high like yours, y’know?”  
Naruto had to cover his mouth with his hand to prevent the snort of surprised laughter from escaping. What depths of darkness had that “y’know” crawled from? Nevertheless, he hummed his assent with an amused smile on his face and ran his fingers through Itachi’s hair in an attempt to get rid of the few tangles that were present.   
The action made Itachi close his eyes and a pure smile graced his own young features as his father tied his hair back. Sure, the cool kunoichi had been the reason he had grown out his hair in the first place, but his dad’s new look was why he had decided to keep it that way. His tou-san was awesome.   
“There you go, Itachi,” the boy opened his eyes to see his father’s handiwork and they immediately widened as he took in his reflection, “So cool!”  
Naruto chuckled heartily at his son’s awe-filled exclamation and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair, lest he mess the hairstyle up and risk Itachi’s ire, “But I’d recommend you don’t repeat that “y’know” in front of your mother though. Ever.” 

Itachi giggled, but quickly quieted. And Naruto’s own smile dimmed as the child’s face slowly smoothed into a serious expression, before he said, “I like your new appearance, tou-san.”  
Naruto blinked, both at the abrupt change in wording and the meaning of the one-liner. Itachi was still a well-spoken child, but tended only to let go of his calculated way of speaking around those he was close to, and Naruto didn’t think that would ever change. But, as long as his son was happy and content in his self-worth, he didn’t mind what kind of language he used. When he reverted back to his formal speech around his loved ones though, they listened.   
“Why do you say that, son?”

Itachi flushed and looked to where his hands were resting gently in his lap, “I dunno.” Naruto sweat dropped at another dramatic turnabout in his manner of speaking, but let him continue.   
“I just – it’s nice to look like your son. Like when the lady at the dango stand asked you if you’d developed a new clone jutsu?” They both smiled at the memory, “Yeah. It feels good to have people look at us and know that we’re a family.” After a moment of processing Itachi’s words, Naruto engulfed his boy into a bear-hug. He was, of course, far too intelligent for his own good.   
“You’re right, son,” and that (as if by divine intervention) was his reason to embrace his new appearance, right there, “But you never spoke about how much this was bothering you.” Itachi shrugged in the embrace as his father’s arms tightened around him and refused to remove his face from where it was happily buried into his father’s robed shoulder. It didn’t matter now. 

“Also,” the boy said when they released each other and in a somewhat desperate attempt to lighten the mood, “Sasuke’s reaction was hilarious.”  
Naruto’s eye twitched at the memory, and he awarded Itachi with a light bop on the head for bringing it up. The boy only gave him an insolent smirk, “You had to draw your markings on for a week!”  
He then burst out into a fit of giggles as Naruto struggled to keep a straight face, neither of them needing to acknowledge the lingering moistness in both sets of identically dark eyes. Sasuke had not taken to his “papa’s” (and thank goodness he had learned that word relatively fast) new appearance as well as Itachi had. It had taken drawing his whiskers on with a black marker to get his son to even recognise him. And even then, Sasuke hadn’t wanted them to “go away”. The result to a regular passer-by was the esteemed Uchiha clan head walking around town with a cheerful toddler on his shoulders, a scowl on his face and what had (bafflingly) appeared to be crooked cat whiskers haphazardly drawn onto his cheeks. It was an odd sight but also an endearing one and, at the expense of Naruto’s dignity, it had certainly lessened the hostility the rest of Konoha harboured towards the Uchiha clan; even if only slightly. 

Incidentally, the jinchuuriki was fine with that; being that it was his goal to fully reintegrate his clan members with the rest of the village before Danzo ever had a chance to push his agenda regarding them. From what he could remember, the massacre had occurred when he and the Sasuke that had been his peer were around six or seven. That would make Itachi most likely thirteen at the time of that fateful event. Even as he patted the shoulder of his now beaming boy affectionately, his gaze darkened. Sasuke had already had a traumatic experience. Albeit one that he had very quickly bounced back from, thanks to the greatly appreciated Inoichi Yamanaka’s help; but, that was still one too many in his professional opinion (and just thinking about Danzo raised his hackles), both as a shinobi and as a father. 

No-one would touch his children again, was the thought that echoed in his mind as, after much ado about nothing, the Namikaze-Uchiha finally made their way to Hinata Hyuuga’s third birthday party. While Sasuke happily wrapped his small arms around his father’s face, something he had easy access to from his usual perch on a set of strong shoulders, Naruto’s eyes flashed (blink and you’d have missed it) a vivid crimson as Kurama expressed his agreement. 

 

Hyuuga Hiashi glared none too subtly at his fellow clan-head and, more recent (although he would never admit it, even on pain of death) friend. His companion’s dark eyes had settled into a disapproving glower, mouth turned down slightly at the corners to further to add to the air of unapproachability he was currently giving off. His arms (robed for the special occasion that was Hiashi’s first-born’s birthday celebration) were crossed over his chest, effectively making him untouchable to the world around him. He was certainly a far cry from the obnoxious blonde man that had irritatingly wormed his way into Hiashi’s circle of precious people since his induction as Uchiha clan head.   
The Hyuuga would also be disinclined to inform you that the reason for Naruto’s sudden turnabout in character was for the sole purpose of mocking him.   
“They say imitation is the purest form of flattery, y’know,” the Namikaze-Uchiha purred with a side-glance at his stern companion, not breaking his stance. Indeed, he was mimicking the other man so closely, it was borderline unnerving.   
“Uh, Naruto?” the usually jolly Chouza Akimichi had sauntered over to the pair and was now giving him a questioning glance that would have looked more fitting colouring a Nara’s features.   
The addressed man simply raised an eyebrow imperiously, and Hiashi could not deny that his hand twitched inside his own robe’s sleeves as it itched to perform a facepalm. Nevertheless, the large man continued with a suppressed, but still amused smirk, “I think you’re scaring your kid.”   
The fact that he was able to maintain his ‘inspired by Hiashi’ character was testament to the man’s dedication to his craft, as typically any mention of his sons would cause him to drop whatever he was doing and rush to their aid, whether they needed it or not. He did, however, turn a solemn eye towards his youngest, whom had wandered over with the Akimichi patriarch and was now staring up at his father with an impressive pout.  
“What is it, Sasuke?” he looked down his nose at the child, unable to keep up the façade of detachment entirely as his voice wavered slightly from its attempted monotone. The boy simply held his hands aloft without a word, lower lip now trembling slightly and Naruto sighed as a warm smile found its place on his pale face. He gently took his son into his arms, and was forced to utterly return to his typical sunny disposition as Sasuke pressed his face into the crook of his neck, short arms curling into his chest. 

Naruto chuckled softly as he ran elegant fingers through a crop of downy hair, “Sorry, kiddo.” In response, the boy merely snuggled his face further into his father’s elaborate clothing and made a noise of protest when he attempted to untangle himself from the three-year-old. With a sigh that was not displeased in the slightest, Naruto resigned himself to a day of being the entertainment for the clan toddlers.   
His friends (that resembled their children that the former blonde had grown up with the first-time round simultaneously so much and not at all) watched on with a shared fondness that came from somewhere unplaceable. One thing became clear to them there and then, observing their fellow clan head and close friend acting as a human jungle-gym for their offspring (and enjoying himself just as much as the children were, it seemed). The Namikaze-Uchiha, regardless of his changing appearance, was – and you could fight them on it – a national treasure in the unforgiving world of ninjas that they knew. Someone who could maintain even a sliver of his innocence (and Naruto still had it in abundance) in spite of his extensive experience, and succeed in putting those precious to him ahead of everything was one who was worth following to the ends of the earth. 

There was, however, another presence at the party who (unaware of the Uchiha head’s true identity as elder brother of the hokage and, as such, maybe a tad biased) would be inclined to disagree with that statement. Having left it up to Naruto’s discretion on whom he wanted to make aware of his true identity as the hero of Konoha, Minato had immediately regretted this decision upon being informed that his older brother had apparently told all of the clan heads his ‘secret’ (although it wouldn’t be much of a secret if everyone knew now, would it?) and had drawn them into his inner circle. Fortunately, they all (although they would admit it with varying degrees of reluctance) adored their sunny colleague and had agreed with little fuss after hearing the reasoning for his ‘undercover mission’ to keep the secret from the populace at large; as was the original plan that the brothers had agreed on.   
Unfortunately for Kakashi Hatake he had not had much contact with his sensei’s brother before he had ‘left’ the village, nor was he a clan head (although that was a debatable can of worms that no one particularly wanted to pry open). And so, entirely unaware of the unnaturally energetic Uchiha’s actual identity, this left the teenage genius with far too many questions and not enough answers to remain at ease as he watched him play with his sensei’s overjoyed son.  
A lone dark eye narrowed and lips twisted into a scowl underneath an opaque, black mask while Kakashi kept a hawk’s gaze on the man.   
It was a pity he wouldn’t get the chance to find out more however, before the hokage whisked himself, and the new clan head (much to the teen’s irritation) away to complete a special task for a special villager. And, when the pair got back, they would find Kakashi to have his hands full with a much more urgent task than this paranoid suspicion.


	6. Mission Start! and The Shadow Clone Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Namikaze brothers start on an important mission while, back home, Itachi makes a blunder.

“I was wondering who could have submitted a request so important, the hokage decided it would be a good idea for him to go himself.”

Naruto had his arms folded over his chest sternly, eyeing his brother with a narrowed gaze as the pair stood outside the imposing gates of the once proud Sunagakure, waiting to be allowed entry. Minato, to his credit, looked appropriately sheepish and he was rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he apologised to his brother. 

“Come on, Naruto! What was I supposed to do?” okay, so maybe his apology was slightly lacking, “You clearly have a problem with him, although I can’t understand why.” Naruto glowered and turned his head away slightly, it would seem that his worries had yet to find solid ground in this new timeline. Orochimaru was seemingly a loyal shinobi as of this point, a concept that utterly baffled him. He would have been more doubtful of his intentions too, if not for the fact that the scientist looked – for lack of a better term – old. His face was lined with age and his pale skin seemed to be losing the elasticity of youth. His long waterfall of black hair could be seen to have the tell-tale sheen of silver at its roots and temples. He, unlike the previous evil-scientist counterpart that Naruto had known, actually looked his age. 

The Namikaze-Uchiha couldn’t fathom what that meant for the village, and indeed the future, at large. Still, Minato had withheld the fact that the pair were currently on a mission for the snake charmer himself and he refused to let that slide. After all, what kind of plan involved only two shinobi (regardless of their skill level) attempting to gain dubious access to the borders of their strained ally, without any form of backup?

“Anyways,” Minato scowled back at his brother when it seemed he was still stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his existence, “Princess Tsunade was last seen here, against all odds. We should start looking for her immediately.” 

Right. That would be it.

With a (slightly) grumpy farewell to his brother, who was off to announce their presence to the kazekage – so as not to accidentally spark a war, you know how it goes – the neo-raven made a beeline for the nearest bar. Minato, obviously, had been wearing a henge to conceal his rather (in)famous character traits; but this wasn’t necessary for the clan-head who was entirely unknown outside of Konoha itself. With the exception of the features (and, currently, the scowl that had graced them due to the most recent sibling spat) that so clearly marked him out as an Uchiha, his current appearance had not been seen outside of Konoha at all and so there was nothing that could have visibly marked him out as the Kyuubi jinchuuriki. This surety led Naruto to consider himself relatively safe from any pre-Akatsuki that could have been lurking around at the time.   
This, unfortunately, did not mean that he was safe from the unnervingly knowing gaze that was being directed at him from an inconspicuous sandbox in the middle of the playground he was currently stalking past. 

With a heavy-handed prompt from Kurama, Naruto whipped his head around to the little boy who was still staring at him, scowl still on his face. When their eyes met though, the man felt his heart sink to his feet. 

How could he have forgotten about Gaara?

He could only stand there, staring into space as the nine-tailed fox gave him an appropriate berating in the back of his mind, while the little boy toddled over. It was a timid tug on his pants that returned Naruto to the real world and he looked down, only for his gaze to be met with impossibly large twin pools of aquamarine that were so open and honest, it made his heart melt into a puddle at his feet. 

“Kaa-chan says you’re okay,” the whisper-soft voice sounded out (and wow, he was eloquent for his age) and the dark-haired man felt his very-frequently-used paternal instinct surge forward with a vengeance.

He didn’t know how, but Gaara couldn’t just stay here; not when he could do something to help. Even now, looking at the way the villagers gave the duo an annoyingly wide berth, gazing back at the child with wide, fearful eyes, Naruto knew that there was no way he could leave this version of his once best friend in the hands of this village and his father with good conscience. Not with that screwed up seal of his. At least for now.

Speaking of said seal, the boy’s greeting had been rather strange for the supposedly mentally-compromised bijuu currently occupying his mind-space. The Namikaze-Uchiha crouched down so that he could be somewhat eye level with the little boy who had stuck his sandy fingers in his mouth as he watched the man, any fear or wariness that Naruto had been expecting to see non-existent in those mesmerising aquamarine eyes of his. 

Naruto’s heart-puddle spontaneously returned itself to its original state when this made him realise that this was Gaara before all of the tragedy that had befallen him. Before the world had so irrevocably broken him and reformed him wrong, like an incorrectly completed jigsaw puzzle. 

He opened his arms gently, gesturing to the boy that he wanted to pick him up and fervently hoping that he didn’t look like some kind of child predator as he did so, but little Gaara only looked at his outstretched hands uncomprehendingly. He removed his fingers from his mouth quickly and started to shift away from Naruto, a flicker of fear passing over his previously trusting face as his mouth twisted with agitation.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, kiddo,” he coaxed gently, not moving his arms, “I’m not going to hurt you. Your kaa-chan said I was nice, yeah?” Gaara nodded timidly, an action that Naruto awarded with a beaming smile. The poor child looked momentarily dazzled, “Well then, do you want a piggyback ride? I want to introduce you to my little brother!”

Gaara shuffled closer again, before hesitantly leaning into the embrace like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do about the situation. His hands remained clasped together under his little chin even when Naruto’s arms curled around his small back gently, the Konoha-nin could feel his frame trembling slightly and his mouth settled into a grim line.   
“He won’t like me,” the heart-breaking, but convinced whisper came from where the child’s face was pressed into Naruto’s shoulder. The man rubbed circles into Gaara’s cloth-covered back unconsciously as he replied softly but firmly, “He will.”

As if those two words (that had left no room for argument) were magic, two short arms began to hesitantly wind themselves around the tall man’s neck and the boy pressed his face firmly into the crook between his jaw and collarbone in the same way Sasuke’s own chubby cheeks had done so countless times before. In fact, Naruto still smelled like baby powder. Baby powder, warm cooking and home. It was a scent that was unfamiliar to Gaara, a fact that became clear with his next, slightly confused statement.   
“But, no one likes me.”

And Naruto’s face was thunderous.   
__________________________________________________________________________

Mikoto Namikaze-Uchiha was not at all bothered by the fact that her husband had been called away on a mission. They were both active shinobi after all, and they had friends and co-workers they enjoyed spending time with outside the politics of the Uchiha clan. Mikoto’s missions were often more frequent, but of lower rankings; and Naruto’s were few and far between, but usually of great importance to the clan and to the village as a whole. She didn’t mind this difference, either. In fact, it had been working quite well for their young family as, in spite of the numerous adoring relatives who would have loved to babysit their two little monsters, the couple found their services wholly unnecessary. There was always at least one parent at home with the boys to ensure that they felt safe, happy and loved. 

No, Mikoto did not have a problem with her husband being away from home. What she did have a problem with, however, was the man’s constant hovering in the form of his numerous shadow clones. He usually sent only one of them over, replacing itas often as they ran out of chakra. But, if he felt his mission held a high enough risk, he would send them by the dozen and Mikoto would have to swat them away like flies buzzing around a jar of syrup.

For whatever reason, Naruto must have thought that his current mission warranted an effective army.

Denying the twitch in her right eye, Mikoto had immediately set about dispelling the annoyances with strict instructions to Naruto to send his usual single one, lest her temper flare up at their ‘boss’ upon his return home. That had seemed to work because it was only one, rather terrified looking shadow clone that had turned up a few days later, warranting a self-satisfactory huff and a grin that had sent it scurrying. 

Mikoto knew that her adorable, idiot husband was only worried for his family’s safety, and she loved him for it; but he needed to know that he could rely on her just as much as he could on himself. It was a work in progress, but she would let it take as long as it needed to work past whatever barriers the man had that was preventing him from doing so.   
This brought her to today, where she was pottering around the house looking for something to do (it was always so boring without having a Naruto to tease) until she realised that she did, in fact, have one. The clone usually did not insert itself into their daily routine, its sole purpose merely to watch over the boss’ family until his return, but she decided that she could at least give it some messages to relay to her husband before it dispelled itself. 

She stopped short when she realised that it was not, in fact, at its usual post perched in the tree immediately outside the house. Although, listening carefully, she could clearly hear the unmistakeable sounds of an argument taking place somewhere nearby. Peeking around the corner of the building, she could see Itachi squabbling with the bunshin in the middle of a patch of disturbed grass, his face growing an impressive shade of red that indicated he was clearly not getting what he wanted out of it.   
… She would have to monitor that behaviour for the future. 

Casting her gaze a bit further, she could see Sasuke playing with his toy shuriken a short distance away from the pair, seemingly not interested at all in the argument taking place beside him. He wasn’t actually throwing the wooden stars anywhere, but instead putting pudgy fingers through the hole in their centres and spinning them around his digits, laughing uproariously at the resulting whirling motions.

Mikoto allowed herself a soft giggle at the frankly quite funny sight before her. Deciding that she would leave her sons to create some interesting memories for the clone to send back to their father, she made her way back to the kitchen to make a cup of tea so that she could return to watch the domestic madness unfold in comfort.   
____________________________________

“Stop looking like my dad!” Itachi’s cheeks were blown out in irritation as he glared heatedly at the bunshin in front of him. The poor clone clearly had no idea what to do when addressed by a petulant child and so kept his hands held out in the placating gesture they had been in since the initiation of the one-sided argument. This lack of response only seemed to frustrate the boy more. 

“You said you weren’t him, so you should stop stealing his face! It’s weird!” the child actually stomped his foot on the floor, his agitation allowing his typically calm, collected personality to surrender to the fact that he was actually only an eight (and a three quarters)-year-old child. One who was just about ready to throw a rare tantrum.   
There was yet another stammered response from the man who was, despite his appearance, not in fact Itachi’s father. The man was here when his dad wasn’t and had seemed to be attempting to replace him, at least in the boy’s eyes. Itachi decided that he would not stand for it any longer, the inarticulate replies only further distinguishing the bunshin from his real dad. 

His temper finally rising to a boiling point, Itachi let out his own unintelligible shout of anger and his leg lashed out and punted the man right in the shin. After seeing the surprised look on the clone’s face, it promptly disappeared in a cloud of smoke before his eyes. Itachi stood looking at the place the object of his frustration had just vacated when a small gasp drew his attention to where his baby brother had been playing. Sasuke’s eyes were glued to where the man had been standing before they snapped to his aniki, who was staring back at him dumbly. To Itachi’s horror, the little boy’s eyes began to well up with tears and he had no idea why. He stepped forward to comfort his brother but stopped in is tracks, hurt filling his chest, when Sasuke scrambled away and glared at him with a venom no toddler should be able to convey with their eyes alone. Getting to his feet confidently, the littlest Uchiha threw one more glare in the elder brother’s direction before he ran into the house shrieking at the top of his lungs. 

What had just happened?

Mikoto, as it turns out, was the one to find out when her youngest skidded into the kitchen and threw himself around her legs while he sobbed uncontrollably against her long, lilac skirt. Immediately bending down to envelop him into her arms, she gently took his face in her hands as the kettle let out a high-pitched whistle in the background.  
“Sasuke! What’s wrong?” the boy pulled back and sniffled loudly, his little fists coming up to his rub his still tear-filled eyes in distress.  
Through his hiccups, Mikoto was able to make sense of the cause of the waterworks, “Ni – Nii-san killed daddy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throughout this story, I'm going to be making subtle hints at canon events. Exhibit A: Sasuke resenting Itachi for hurting their pops (or so he believes).


	7. The Slug Princess and The 'Venger!

Naruto knew in his heart of hearts that he wouldn’t, in a million years, have been able to take Gaara back to Konoha with him. It would have, among many other complications, sparked a war between Suna and Konoha; because what else would the essential kidnapping of a village’s jinchuuriki be viewed as, other than a blatant act of war. 

He sighed dejectedly and Minato, who had been at his side in silence, clapped his back with a warm hand in an attempt at reassurance. He supposed he should be grateful that Rasa had allowed him and his brother to even fix the seal at all. A small smile finally found its way to his lips because that was actually a fantastic start for the little redhead and his one-tailed occupant. He had also, fuelled by a last-minute act of desperation, offered the stoic leader of the Sand Village for his son to take part in jinchuuriki training when he was old enough that it was deemed necessary. His instructor would, of course, be Konoha’s own jinchuuriki (and here Minato had thankfully intervened before he had utterly blown everything by admitting that said bijuu-container was actually himself) and – well, the answer hadn’t been an outright no.

So, Naruto could hold some hope that the next time he saw this timeline’s Gaara he wouldn’t be the bloodthirsty, broken boy that the former blonde had known as a child. Now though, before he could change his mind, flee back to the kage’s residence, kidnap his son and start his new life as a missing-nin, Minato was steering him towards the very same bar he had been beelining for before he had seen Gaara in the sandpit. It was, however, not the first bar the hokage had been to in search of their objective. 

Right. Granny Tsunade. The mission. Time to get the game face on. 

Naruto’s ‘game face’ was actually what he inwardly called ‘Broody Uchiha Mode’…which was a (copyrighted) term that was pretty self-explanatory. The clan head had actually grown to make it quite convincing, needing to use it during his regular meetings with the clan’s council of elders – because they would probably order his assassination if they knew of his true, effortlessly sunny disposition – and, of course, having Hiashi Hyuuga as a friend gave him plenty ideas on how to better give off the illusion that he was, in actual fact, an insensitive prick. 

The duo paused outside the entrance, the mask slipping fully into place, and they were no longer the inseparable Namikaze brothers. To any observer the two men who hesitated outside the bar door looked at each other with gazes containing differing degrees of wariness. The pair of ocean-blue eyes held a sort of tired resignation while the other, significantly darker gaze burned with barely concealed disdain and, perhaps, a hint of jealousy. Having dropped his nondescript henge since Rasa had given him the go-ahead to conduct his business and then leave, the blonde was well-recognised as the infamous Fourth Hokage of Konoha and the dark-haired man, who also bore the insignia of the Leaf, appeared to be of a similar age if not slightly older than the Yellow Flash. It could easily be inferred that the title of kage was swept out from under the second man’s nose. Something that could be accounted for in the way he glared at his companion. The pair were clearly uncomfortable and unused to working with each other. Clearly. 

As the Konoha nin entered the drab drinking establishment, they shared a look when their gazes fell on a distinctive blonde head of hair that was planted face down on the bar counter. It was about time. Minato, by himself, had already visited almost all of what could pass as ‘bars’ or something to that effect that the Village Hidden in the Sand had to offer without any luck. At this point he was solemnly contemplating just chucking the sannin over his shoulder and booking it. Or, at least he would be if he wasn’t certain she would turn him into some type of hokage paste with her fists alone at the mere attempt. And so, he shook his head to clear it of his self-sacrificial thoughts he approached the ticking time bomb that was Tsunade Senju, the Slug Sannin. 

Barely had his hand alighted on her shoulder when the woman leapt from what the two shinobi had falsely assumed to be an alcohol-induced stupor with her eyes surprisingly unclouded, considering where they had found her, and a dangerous glint shining in them. That was pretty much expected. What wasn’t expected however, was the way that expression changed once she actually saw the man that had dared to get within her striking range. Her eyes widened and, inexplicably, appeared to grow ever-so-slightly wet as she took in Minato’s blonde hair and distinctive blue eyes. Her lip quivered as she opened her mouth to breathe an introduction, “Is it really you? Nar –“

The elder Namikaze brother’s own jaw would have dropped if he wasn’t gritting his teeth so tightly at the address (because the unexpected hope that came with what baa-chan had implied was so overwhelming and he couldn’t –) but he stepped in before the woman before them could incriminate both herself and him in something so, incredibly, hard to explain.  
“Minato, we have found Tsunade-hime. We should leave,” the glower that darkened his features was growing increasingly difficult to maintain when his heart was swelling at the thought that his baa-chan had somehow followed him into the mess-turned-blessing that he had fallen into those years ago. How long had she been here? What had she been doing? How would he tell her that she was not alone? How -?

Naruto’s racing thoughts were interrupted by the disdainful gaze that was being directed at him from the slug sannin that so occupied his current thoughts. He was almost taken aback when he remembered, with an internal snort, Oh right. I’m an Uchiha. He met her gaze unwaveringly though, in true Uchiha fashion, which only encouraged her to inject more venom into her scowl.  
She then turned to Minato, all of the relieved awe that had been there when she had first seen him utterly vanished into thin air as it was clear now that he wasn’t the blonde she had been hoping to see, and addressed him with an imperious sniff, “Konoha, right? Fine. I have nothing to pack. Let’s get a move on, blondie.”  
Minato, the poor man, looked rather whiplashed at the sudden about turn in the older woman’s demeanour and looked to his brother dazedly as she marched her way out of the bar. Naruto watched her go for a moment, her sagging shoulders the only indicator of the hope that had first risen and then been dashed inside her chest at the sight of the Konoha nin, before he gave his little brother an amused smirk and then followed her through the doors.

Only when they were out of Suna’s gates and well on their way to Konoha did Minato dare to whisper to his brother a statement that he really should have been warned against when he had initially taken a mission regarding the slug sannin, “Wasn’t this supposed to be hard?”

It was all Naruto could do to hold in his snicker while the pigtailed woman stomping away ahead of them whirled around with a warning glint in her eye and an accusatory finger threatening severe pain aimed directly at the Hokage’s chest.

“Watch it, brat. What I want to do is my business, and mine alone. Remember that for the future,” Minato nodded, wide-eyed at being caught gossiping like a school boy, and Naruto could see the tips of his ears beginning to turn bright red in shame. The sight was too funny not to snicker at but, ‘Uchiha Mode’ dropped now, it was actually a hearty guffaw that escaped the Namikaze-Uchiha’s mouth. Minato scowled and punched him in the shoulder, his cheeks flushing red too at the blatant sibling-mockery of his latest embarrassment, but Tsunade actually looked taken aback. There was only a moment of hesitation before her eyes narrowed and she turned her ire on to the raven, “You got something to say too, Uchiha?”  
Wiping a tear of mirth from his dark-eyes, Naruto merely gave her a warm grin and mimed zipping his lips happily. Blinking, Tsunade turned away from the pair and continued along the path. The brothers didn’t miss the miniscule release of tension from her figure though, and shared a cheeky grin as they heard her mutter, “You’re a strange one, aren’t you?”  
Minato couldn’t resist the vengeful jab at his aniki as he rolled his eyes, “Tell me about it.” 

______________________________________________________________

Upon return to their home village, Naruto was all too happy to leave Tsunade and Minato to do the appropriate paperwork that accompanied her return to Konoha. He excused himself from their company with as much grace as he could manage while grinning like an idiot at the thought of his long-awaited return to his family. The Yondaime could only smile back at him softly, perfectly understanding his eagerness to get home, and waved him off with a fond hand while the Slug Princess looked on in contemplation. 

And so, it was a travel-weary Uchiha clan head that kicked off his shoes in the doorway of the main house on the evening of his return and yelled out an expectant, “I’m home!”

He waited for the usual pattering of excited feet to come careering down the entrance hall at his announcement, but paused when he was greeted instead only with utter silence. Considering the infamous history of the Uchiha clan in his own youth, the man couldn’t be blamed for the cold fear that had begun to coil in the pit of his stomach. He marched through the house, flinging every door open and growing more panicky with every empty room that he found; only to freeze as he heard the distinctive ‘thunk’ of kunai hitting a target that was accompanied by a childish voice declaring something too muffled for him to hear. 

Immediately, a relief washed over him that left Naruto feeling boneless as he staggered to the training area that was demarcated for his family’s exclusive use. Tugging a hand down his pale features, he scolded himself for his immediate reaction but all thoughts of his previous, fleeting panic flew out of his mind when he saw his beautiful, little family all standing around a single training target.  
They were facing away from him, Itachi curled around his mother’s legs while a gentle hand smoothed the hair on the top of his head as they both watched Sasuke throw a single kunai at his target, run to go fetch it from where it either hit the board or flew passed it, and then repeat the exercise over again. It was a domestic scene that made Naruto’s heart grow wonderfully warm at its sight.

Although, as he got closer, he could see that several assumptions he had made at first did not seem to be correct. Firstly, Itachi was not merely wrapped around Mikoto’s long skirt. He seemed, in actual fact, to be clutching it in terror while his mother was stroking his long hair in comfort with an odd expression on her face; one that looked to be a mixture of concern and poorly concealed amusement. Sasuke’s target, meanwhile, had a crude stick figure drawing on it that was clearly labelled ‘Itachi-nii’. 

Clearing his throat to get the three figures’ attention, Naruto was sure his own face was clearly showing how disturbed he was at the sight and, as Mikoto looked towards him and positively lit up as she registered that her husband was home (and Naruto was determined to ingrain that beautiful expression on her face in his memory forever), he raised a questioning brow even as he gathered her into his arms and held her there. 

Before she had the opportunity to even begin to explain the situation however, Itachi crashed into his legs so hard that he actually staggered backwards a few steps. The manic expression on his son’s face was enough to give him pause. 

“Tou-san! Thank goodness you’re back! Sasuke’s gone insane!” he gestured wildly and appeared rather unhinged himself (not that Naruto was going to tell him that) as the youngest boy finally noticed his father’s presence as well and came screaming over so that he could throw himself into the man’s hug too. 

“Daddy! You’re alive!” He snuggled into Naruto’s chest and pressed against the strong hands that came up to return the embrace. At his arrival, Itachi had let out a squeak and ducked around to his father’s other side and was watching his brother with very wary eyes. 

Naruto sputtered though, “I’m what?! Of course I’m alive, my boy! Why would you think otherwise?” 

The littlest Uchiha pulled back and looked at his father solemnly as he aimed an accusing finger at his terrified older brother, “Itachi-nii killed you.”

Naruto felt his eyes widen as he recalled the incident Sasuke must have been referring to, thanks to that particular bunshin’s disorganised memories, and looked to his eldest who could only curl tighter against the back of his father's jounin vest.

The boy continued though, “But it’s okay! I ‘venged you and now you’re back so I forgive Itachi-nii. I missed you, daddy!” 

With that he squeezed his father’s legs hard one last time before scampering into the house, all thoughts of vengeance and kunai forgotten (because his daddy was back and was so cool that he could beat death!) and leaving his greatly perplexed older brother behind. 

Itachi gulped and tightened his hold on his father, enjoying the security and warmth that he had so missed while he had been away, and summed up his thoughts in one sentence, “I didn’t know Sasuke could be so scary.” 

After a moment of incredulous silence, both parental units burst into hearty laughter that brought Sasuke careering out into the garden again and leaping directly into the sphere of contentedness that surrounded the small family. After a moment of tension in which Itachi made sure he was truly forgiven for his heinous actions against his father’s shadow clone, he too relaxed and then scooped his brother into his small yet capable arms. The Namikaze-Uchiha were all together again and, as long as they had each other, Itachi was sure that they could take on the world.


End file.
